


Oct 5: Corrupt

by MadhouseVagabond



Series: SortaSpooky Challenge [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blackmail, Disturbing the Dead, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Gen, Interrogation, LSPD, Los Santos, Spooktober, Vagabond, corrupt, ryan centric, sortaspooky Challenge 2018, the others are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadhouseVagabond/pseuds/MadhouseVagabond
Summary: The LSPD have finally caught the infamous Vagabond. Ryan refuses to sell out his crew, but when his most precious secret is used against him along with the soul of one of his best friends, will he crumble and become corrupt?





	Oct 5: Corrupt

The figure sat in the chair, hood over his head, his hands relaxed on the table, handcuffed. Detective Chris Demarias walked into the small interrogation room and scoffed at the figure, smiling triumphantly at the catch.

 

"So, they finally caught you, after all this time of hunting you down. Now, you're going to tell me everything you know about the Fake AH Crew, Mr Vagabond," he said and ripped the hood off the man's head, revealing a very plain looking man.

 

The Vagabond wasn't as intimidating without his mask or face paint on, and was actually surprisingly very handsome; sandy blonde hair that was cut short, a scruffy face, an adorably crooked nose, and piercingly blue eyes. The Vagabond glared up at him for a moment before slamming his hands down on the table, startling the detective.

 

"I ain't telling you shit!" he snarled.

 

"Look, Vagabond, or should I say, Ryan Haywood," Chris said and plopped a Manila folder down in front of Ryan who's eyes widened at the mention of his name. "Oh yes, we know who you are. Took us a long time to piece together that a seemingly innocent man from Georgia was the most feared killer in all of Los Santos. This file has what info we have on you. And it can go away, entirely this time, and all you have to do, is give us the information we want. Please."

 

Ryan stared down at the folder as if it were some sort of dangerous animal. He'd been so careful all these years to hide who he was, his identity, his past, his connections. The folder wasn't thick, a fact that brought some small relief to the man as he stared at it. He looked up at Chris before looking around the room nervously.

 

“H-how did you get this?!” he demanded.

 

“We have our connections Mr Haywood, same as you. Funny thing about the dead, they’re always willing to talk,” he smiled creepily down at Ryan.

 

“What do you mean?” Ryan asked.

 

“We were at the end of our rope, trying to figure out who exactly you were. Then it clicked! Who knew you better than anyone? Who would have the most info on your ass?” Ryan’s eyes widened and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

 

“Y-you didn’t!” he gasped.

 

“Oh, we did. And if you want his soul to be set free, put to rest, then I suggest you cooperate,” Chris smiled as he opened the folder to reveal a photo of a simple gravestone, one Ryan was terrified to see.

 

Ray Narvaez Jr.

 

Ryan was shaking as he swallowed. He’d suspected the LSPD of many things, but disturbing the dead? Holding their souls hostage in a state of unrest? This was a whole new low for them and Ryan hated the feeling of helplessness he felt. He felt his shoulders sag.

 

"You know the Fakes as well as I do. Word of this gets out and I'm a dead man. I'm going to need a little more...incentive than this," he said slowly. Chris nodded and pulled out his wallet, handing a few hundreds over.

 

"There's a total of five million waiting for you when you're done here and are ready to leave. It's not much, but it's what we can offer. That and a clean record and even police protection until this all blows over," he said, Ryan nodding and sighing as he stared at the money in the detective's hand.

 

He thought about his Crew, about how they'd become his family over the years of them being together. How he'd grown to love them more than anything in the world, except his one secret. His identity was the one thing he held over all of them, the one thing he'd protect over them. He thought of rooftop barbecues, Geoff's amazing cooking the best this side of the country, of late night talks with Jack when he needed someone to talk to, of the questions Gavin would ask him to get to know him better, of the way Michael shared a lust for violence with him and how they were the power players for the longest time. And then he thought of Jeremy. His Battle Buddy, the one who'd stepped into his life after Ray was gone, leaving him void of that close friendship. How Jeremy had burst into that void with his stupid Rimmy Tim getup, his bubbling laughter, his respect for privacy, the way he just...got Ryan; like they were two peas in a pod they just clicked.

 

“And if I do this you’re going to let Narvaez’ soul be?” he asked, the detective nodding.

 

“And you expect me to believe that you’ll just let me walk out of here Scott free?” Ryan growled.

 

“Trust me, it wasn’t what any of us wanted. But Ray wouldn’t help unless that was the deal,” Chris frowned, a small smile tugging at Ryan’s lips. Even in death, the R&R connection was strong. He sighed.

 

"I need you to promise me one thing, two actually," he said softly. Chris raised an eyebrow but waited patiently. "Don't kill them is the first. The second, is that you let Rimmy Tim go free."

 

Chris opened his mouth to protest but Ryan shot a look his way, and somehow that look told Chris more than he'd ever need to know. He sighed and nodded his head.

 

"I'll have to let my officers know, and I know many of them won't be happy," he said.

 

"Their happiness means Jack shit to me," Ryan said plainly.

 

He waited for Chris to nod before he reached out and took the money from the detective's hand, sighing and clearing his throat, advising a notepad as Chris sat down beside him and took careful notes of what he said; all the while a sick feeling building up in Ryan's stomach, a feeling of deep shame and guilt coming over him, and he hoped that somehow, the others would find a way to forgive him.


End file.
